


just barely out of reach

by Anonymous



Category: Cookie Run (Video Game)
Genre: Body Horror, Chance Meetings, Character Death, Gen, Jellywalkers terrify me, Not Beta Read
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-03
Updated: 2020-08-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:55:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25686160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Devil accidentally comes across someone they'd rather never see again.
Kudos: 20
Collections: Anonymous





	just barely out of reach

**Author's Note:**

> it's officially Angst Hours (TM) and i'm gonna inflict emotional pain on unsuspecting cookies

It was late, very late, and Devil was very, very bored. There wasn’t much to do, since everyone they knew was asleep, or busy, or too... well... boring. Like Hero, for instance. No doubt that nerd was still up doing nerdy science stuff. And Fire Spirit was off on a trip somewhere far, so Devil couldn’t bother him. What was left to do?

Well, they could always go on a nice midnight flight. The skies are open and free! And, if Devil was lucky, they’d get to see interesting things from so high up. Mind set, Devil stretched their wings out and flung themself up into the clouds, where the air was cold, the stars twinkled, and the ground was hardly visible. They hung there for a few minutes, catching a lofty drift and gliding, relaxing in the feeling of cool dew collecting on their skin. Then, with a tilt of their body, they broke the surface of the pearlescent cotton sea and free-fell, laughing until the high speed stole the oxygen from their lungs and they had to pull up, stopping the hurtling descent and transitioning into a fast-paced race with some leaves blowing in a breeze. 

Devil loved the freedom of this. They loved it so much, in fact, that they’d completely forgotten to pay attention to where they were going. 

It was when the forest suddenly degraded and revealed a large, open space that Devil’s location suddenly hit their mind. The unsettling chill hit them a second after, and the smile slipped from their face; their eyes narrowed, tracing the crater warily. 

There was a spot in the middle, right where a giant purple meteor used to be. It disappeared days after it hit the earth, as a team of scientists and magicians alike had worked together to destroy it immediately. 

Nothing good had come from the meteor. 

Ever since then, this area of the land had been unoccupied. Animals, gods, sentient objects... no one came here. The only thing that was left was the feeling of being watched by spirits, but Devil couldn’t see anything, and that’s what made it worse. Ghosts don’t hide from their eyes, but all they got here was a prickling on their neck... no visuals, just an unsettling chill. 

Ha, imagine that. A demon, afraid of a sorta spooky place. Pathetic!

Devil shook their head of those thoughts, landing on the edge of the crater. They walked around the edge, bare feet sinking into loose dirt in some places. At one point the dirt gave, and they had to flap their wings to avoid tumbling down into that... that cursed _pit_. 

They hovered there, a foot from the ground, glaring hard at the empty spot where the meteor used to be. Nothing remained, not even a single purple speck.

A rustling noise reached their ears, and they whipped around, rising higher into the air in preparation to either fight or flee. 

Something stumbled, nearly toppling down the crater. The silhouette walked unsteadily. Perhaps they were drunk? Or drugged? 

The horrible sound of feathers rustling in the wind reached Devil again, and their eyes widened. 

“Hello...?” they called out, hesitantly. 

The figure said nothing, but halted their movements immediately, as if listening for something.

“Are you hurt?” Devil rose higher again, uncomfortable and uncertain. They thought they heard feathers, but the figure was still too far away to be sure. But... could it be...?

Then the figure turned, head tilting, and Devil caught sight of glowing yellow, right in the area the figure’s eyes were. A feather fell, and the other skeletal wing made a noise like a hollow bone wind chime when it shifted, pieces hitting each other. 

Nausea hit Devil like a fright train, but they couldn’t make themself actually _do_ anything, just kept hovering there, heartbeat pounding and throat drying. 

Angel—or what used to be an angel—emitted a horrendous noise that might’ve been a cough, but sounded too painful, too ill, too wet. “Deh—evil,” the undead herald of light tried to speak, but it’s sounded warped and unnatural. 

Devil shuddered, gasping in air that they suddenly lacked. 

It tilted its head, unaware or uncaring of the golden blood dribbling from its mouth, and shuffled closer. “Devil.” The tone parodied the one Angel used to use when they wanted to get Devil’s attention. 

This hurt. This hurt so much. Devil didn’t want to respond, but they couldn’t just... not say anything. It had been so long since they saw Angel. “...What is it?” they asked, voice hoarse, humoring the shell of their sibling. Or maybe pleading, or maybe dismissing, or maybe something else. 

The undead creature walked forward again, tripped, and it took too much self-control not to try helping it regain its balance. If this were Angel, maybe Devil would’ve laughed at them and made a joke. But this wasn’t Angel, and Devil regretted not helping Angel more often. There were a lot of things Devil regretted and repressed, and this meeting was stirring a lot of ugly emotions, forcefully yanking them from the box Devil had hidden them away in and laying them under the light, baring teeth at the little demon and asking what they planned to say once judgement day came. 

“I’m sorry,” Devil whispered, and was going to fly away when the softest little noise reached their ears. 

“Nooo...” The undead creature denied Devil’s actions. 

And they were practically helpless but to comply, settling on the ground a few good meters away from the dangerous walking corpse. That had sounded so painfully like when Angel was alive. How dare their voice come from this shambling terror’s melting body?

Was Angel even in there anymore? There’s no way it was possible. 

Devil rarely prayed, but ever since learning what had become of their sibling, they found the fear in them had grown strong enough to mumble the words, the plea— let Angel free from that vessel. Let Angel free to go upwards, to ascend and reach home; let their suffering end. 

The stench of rot reached Devil’s nose, and they gagged, backing up once the undead abomination attempted to gain proximity again. What did it want?

“Devil.”

“I— I’m here.” They fought back tears. “I’m listening. Go on, say whatever it is you want to say. Just—“ 

_Don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry_

“Just tell me.”

Fat drops of gleaming blood splattered the ground by the undead creature’s feet. It was unclean, those usually pure white robes stained with gore and dirt. 

Angel could never stand uncleanliness. 

“Come.” The creature beckoned, a hungry glint in its eyes as it raised a shaky hand, offering something to Devil.

Devil did not move to inspect the gift. 

It was probably a trap. 

In their lifetime, Angel never dealt with traps. That was Devil’s thing, as it was all demons’ forté. Holy beings dealt in the truth, in trust, and _definitely not_ traps that led a person to their doom. 

Smiling should never look so creepy, but the creature managed it anyway. “Come c— kghh... closssser.”

“No.”

It laughed, and Devil was sure they’d hear that sound in their nightmares later tonight, once they got home. 

Which they should be doing right now. Why were they still here?

It laughed, quiet and hissing, arm slack and falling back against its body. More sparkling blood hit the ground. “Weird...”

“What—“ They swallowed the lump in their throat. “What‘s weird?”

“Hh—Heaven is calling me.”

A lightning strike of horror hit Devil directly in their chest, jump-starting their already fast pulse and sending their thoughts into overdrive. What? What did this creature mean by that?! Why would Heaven be calling?

Worst of all was the implication that it retained a... 

A soul. 

It was one thing to recall a person’s name. Devil had doubted that the undead abomination even knew _why_ it knew Devil’s name, or what its connection with the red sprite was. 

But if Heaven was keeping in contact?

This was why Devil didn’t pray. The gods are so unbelievably cruel. 

“It’s waiting.” The creature groaned, suddenly curling in in itself. “Home is waiting… let me take you there, Devil...”

They couldn’t move. 

It snarled at the dirt, at whatever was in its head, at _something_.

And _Devil couldn’t move._

The creature raised its head, The two’s gazes connected, but all Devil saw in the other was malice. 

It didn’t suit those kind eyes. 

But this wasn’t Angel, was it?

Devil took a step back, and then another, and jumped for the sky when the monster lunged for them. How it moved so fast, Devil couldn’t even begin to guess, only that they were flying for their life and the abhorred mimicry of their deceased sibling couldn’t follow them into the sky. Those decrepit wings wouldn't be tasting the freedom of open air anytime soon. 

If anyone saw Devil later on, they’d say the tears were only there because of the wind hitting their eyes during flight...

As angels deal in truths, so demons deal in lies. 

**Author's Note:**

> why'd i post this anonymously? well, see, i have a ninjago-only account on here and rather than go through the steps of setting up a new email and creating a new account for this one, singular cr:ob fic i'm just gonna post it in the anon collection


End file.
